


Bullets & Asphalts

by MommaVanillaBear



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: M/M, Murder, Not chubby baker AU, Teen!Stans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 17:39:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6916930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MommaVanillaBear/pseuds/MommaVanillaBear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a fight goes too far and Ma walks out the two Stan twins take their lives in the their own hands and do the only thing they feel they have left...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bullets & Asphalts

The marble white sink of the upstairs bathroom was wet and splattered with fresh blood, down by the slitted drain rested a freshly torn out tooth, a bit of pinkish flesh still attached. More of the crimson liquid dripped down onto the porcelain, the white becoming stained before the water from the facet was released, washing the blood down the drain along with cleaning off the tooth. The sixteen year old that stood before the mirror spat out another mouthful of blood along with a wad of gauze before cupping his hands together, drinking in the water that he used to rinse out his mouth, sighing softy to himself. With the bleeding controlled by yet another wad of gauze the teenager stepped back, turning off the water whilst grabbing his tooth; a shiver ran down his spine as he gazed down at the molar, the pain that throbbed from both his mouth and his swollen cheek only served in reminding him of the heavy handed punch he had received from his father- it was true that he had been a bit mouth, however he never thought the man would go as far as to strike him hard enough to knock out one of his teeth, the most the man ever did was hurt him where nobody could see…

“Stanley, are you okay?”

The door knob to the bathroom was jiggled, a soft thud being heard from where a forehead finally was drooped forward- Stanley didn’t need to open the door to know that his twin brother was out there, leaning against the door frame with the expression of worry clear in his eyes and a nose packed full of bloodied tissues. The door knob squeaked once again, the handle itself moving despite the lock still in place; Stanley could hear the deep breathed sigh that Stanford released, could hear the soft swearing under his twins’ breath and eventually heard the soft footsteps heading away from the door. Gripping the edge of the sink tightly the younger twin glared at his reflection in the old cracked mirror, a bead of sweet dripping down his cheek- he wanted to inflict pain, he wanted to inflict twice the pain that he and Stanford were forced to endure. And he knew exactly who he wanted to inflict the pain on.

Filbrick. 

Fire ran through Stanley’s veins at the thought of his old man, picturing him sitting down stairs in the living room in his usual recliner with a can in one hand and the remote in the other, most likely smugly oblivious to the pain he inflicted on his children. Gritting his teeth despite the pain Stanley formed a fist, punching the old mirror as hard as he possibly could, watching as the glass broke into slivers and shards, a newly formed gash dripping blood down his knuckles and fingers; however Stanley didn’t feel the pain, only the fury, the fury of knowing that Ma was gone- gone who knows where with a black eye and a busted lip and there hadn’t had been a damn thing he could have done about it! Even when Filbrick turned on Stanford and him there hadn’t had been anything he could have done, the older and much stronger man easily over powered them, giving them a ‘warning’ to either get out or behave; Stanley wished he had left with Ma, but he knew Stanford wouldn’t last without him, not to mention Stanley couldn’t last without him either…

The light in the bedroom was on by the time Stanley left the bathroom, his fist cleaned and bandaged; gazing in to the shared room he watched as Stanford carefully removed the wadded up tissues from his nose, fingers shaking when he saw that his nose was still trickling blood. Stepping into the room Stanley’s arms were quick to wrap around his twin, his cheek pressed to Stanford’s, his arms tightening. Stanley could smell the scent of blood and sweat on his twin, the pain clear in Stanford’s deep chocolate hued eyes when he turned to gaze at Stanley, his voice no louder than a whisper.

“What are we going to do?”

The tension in the room was thick, for a moment Stanford feared that Stanley wouldn’t answer, however he felt Stanley shudder, his breath hot on Stanford’s neck as he finally answered. “We can’t stay here, we need to follow the plan…god Stanfy, I’m scared… you heard what he said.” The death threat was made clear; Filbrick promised that the two of them would be digging their own graves by their next birthday if they didn’t wise up.

If only he knew that the two of them had been planning their escape since the first time they witnessed their Ma being struck down.

The look of fear had left Stanford’s eyes by the time Stanley had finished speaking, the finality of the situation finally settling in; getting up from the bed Stanford lifted the top mattress with the help of Stanley, reaching for the old duffel bag that was sandwiched in between the box spring and mattress- the duffel bag itself was for the most part intact save for the mouse chewed holes near the rusted zippers and a tear in the shoulder strap. Gathering up loose articles of clothing Stanford began to form a pile on top of the bed, searching for the spare bandages and medical tape while Stanley slowly unzipped the bag and took out their ticket out of the hell whole they lived in.

A rusted tipped hand gun.

Neither twin spoke a word whilst they worked, Stanford with the packing of the duffel bag and Stanley with the cleaning and loading of the bullets; with the duffel bag packed Stanford glanced at his twin one last time before turning off the lights, his lips pressing to Stanley’s cheek in a tender kiss-careful to avoid Stanley’s swollen cheek. With the duffel bag slung over his shoulder Stanley made sure to hide the gun under his sweat shirt, his heart racing as he gripped Stanford’s hand, glancing to his twin for support. 

“It’ll be over soon.” Stanford promised, squeezing Stanley’s hand, his voice soft in hopes that Filbrick wouldn’t be able to hear him over the roar of fake laughter from the downstairs television. “We made a vow, we’re in this together; just you and me. Just focus on me.”

“Just you and me…” Stanley whispered back, nodding softly before pulling Stanford gently towards the stairs, their hearts beating faster, the adrenaline coursing through their veins, glancing one last time to Stanford, Stanley knew there was no going back. It was now or never…

And Stanley never really was one for waiting for the inevitable.

 

“You’re shaking.” Stanford murmured, their backs pressed to the wall separating them from the living room; Stanley’s body was shaking, his hands trembling despite the deep breathes he took to calm himself- the light flickering from the television was reflected in the whites of his eyes, creating even more of an allusion to just how terrified he was, every noise their sleeping father made causing him to jump and twitch. “Give me the gun.”

“I-I can do this…” Stanley’s hand continued to shake, nearly dropping the bullets when he had checked the barrel, the changing of lighting from the living room making his   
head spin, “…please…I have to do this for you.”

“No, you don’t.” Stanford’s lips brushed briefly over Stanley’s, his eyes narrowed as he gently took the gun away, whispering for Stanley to stay put. “I won’t let him hurt you; I won’t let him hurt anyone.” Without a second glance Stanford primed the gun before taking a deep breath, his eyes narrowing before finally stepping into the dimness of the living room, the volume on the television rising significantly. 

The living room was dark save for the glow of the television; the coffee table had been upturned from the earlier struggle, glass bottles of opened pop and popcorn bits covered the damp and sticky rug- looking about Stanford saw that most of the family portraits laid smashed on the floor, their glass shattered and their frames broken. Looking to the arm chair the older of the twins’ found their father asleep, his head lulled forward- sun glasses rest in his lap- with a can of beer in one hand and a half smoked cigar in the other; stepping over a cracked bottle Stanford headed over to the couch, grabbing one of the overstuffed gold throw pillows before creeping over silently to the back of the recliner, his heart skipping a beat. Stanford could smell the beer and sweat wafting off from his father, a bit of drool glistening down his chin, reflecting light from the television; with a shaking hand Stanford placed the pillow behind Filbricks’ head, his breath hitching when Filbrick murmured in his sleep, however he remained asleep. Sucking in a deep breath the tip of the gun was pressed against the pillow, just behind the base of Filbricks’ skull; Stanford almost reconsidered shooting, wanting to grant at least some mercy on the man that he called ‘dad’ however he couldn’t, the images of Stanley being beaten and worse replaying over and over, like a film that he was forced to watch, knowing there was nothing he could have done, and that there was still nothing that he could do to have stopped those acts from occurring, however the was one thing he could do…

Without a doubt in Stanford’s mind he pulled the trigger, the gun jerking back in his hands from the force of the bullet being released, the scent of gun powder and burnt cloth filling his nostrils. As the gun was pulled back Stanford watched the tarnished gold fabric slowly turn bronze, quickly becoming wet with blood as the stuffing began to absorb the putrid liquid; Stanford could hear the raspy breath escaping Filbrick, could hear the gasp for air while his body fought to remain alive, however the deed was done, and there was no surviving from that. Bringing his arm to his side Stanford watched just a moment longer before allowing himself the satisfaction of taking the sun glasses from Filbricks’ lap, stomping on them till the lenses broke and the frames snapped.

“Serves you right…”

Stepping out from the living room Stanford looked around in panic, only to heave a sigh of relief when he spotted Stanley curled up on the floor, his arms wrapped tightly around himself while tears flowed heavily down his bruised cheeks; unable to do much for his twin Stanford knelt down beside him, arms pulling him into a strong embrace, lips brushing against tears in a futile effort to comfort. “Please, Stanley, it’s okay. It’s all okay now. He won’t hurt you, I promise…I promise. I shot him; I made sure he’s dead.” 

Stanley’s shivers increased, his breath hitching in his throat at Stanford’s words, his hands coming up to grip at Stanford’s arms; in that moment Stanford could see the struggle of emotions that ran through his twin’s mind- the desperate fear, the despair that ripped through him and the utter painful relief that the demon that lurked in the shadows was finally dead. Crying out silently Stanley held onto Stanford like a man at sea clutching onto a life preserver; gently Stanford rocked his twin back and forth, cooing sweet nothing’s in his ear, promises of safety and love, begging Stanley to stop his crying, that they had to go. Only when the tears had stopped falling and kisses had been shared that the two stood up; snatching bread and peanut butter from the kitchen they headed out the back door, locking it behind them. It would be days before anyone suspected that something had went down, and by the time Stanford and Stanley would be long gone…

 

The streets were empty, the wind howling past the branches and flags hanging up in the park, a light rain falling, the stars and moon were blocked out by the thick clouds; for over an hour Stanford and Stanley walked, their hands clasped and their eyes downward casted. Neither spoke a word, their minds both set on one goal, finding Ma. They knew she was too smart to stay out on such a cold and miserable night, but they also didn’t know which hotel she would be, or perhaps which city she would be in if she was actually serious about leaving; heading through the park they walked towards the heart of the slums, they didn’t have much money on them, just barely enough for a motel room and coffee, but that would be enough for them, until they could clear their heads and figure out the next step in their plan. Walking towards the flickering red neon lights Stanford glanced worryingly at his twin, noticing the silent tears streaming down his cheeks and the blood that dribbled from his mouth.

“Its okay baby, we’ll be okay.” Stanford murmured, squeezing Stanley’s hand softly before pulling him into an embrace, kissing his forehead for good measure. “Stay out here okay? I’ll get us a room.”

Nodding weakly Stanley stood under the cover of what was once a bus stop, the graffiti covered glass walls stinking of smoke and urine. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans he waited, only looking up once he heard the jingle of keys, his hand being held while Stanford lead him to a room located on the second floor; the door was bent around the edges and the peep hole pried off, but it was still a place to sleep and Stanley couldn’t complain. Heading into the room Stanley placed the duffle bag on the bed, already stepping out of his shoes before sitting up by the pillows, pulling out the jar of peanut butter and bread.

“Hungry?”

“Starving.” Pulling out a plastic fork Stanley began to make two sandwiches, smothering the white bread with peanut butter before handing one to his twin, tears coming to his eyes once more as he bit into the sandwich, the stale bread and peanut butter tasting like dirt in his mouth. 

“Stanley…come here.” Stanford’s gentle yet commanding hands led his twin over to him, placing Stanley onto his lap, the sandwiches left off to the side, temporarily forgotten as their lips met in desperate kisses, each twin needing the distraction from the nights’ events. 

Lips and tongues met in a furious battle for dominance, more than once their noses brushing against each other’s’, saliva dripping down their chins; Stanley’s hands were frantic, pawing, gripping and tearing at Stanford’s shirt, desperate to get closer to his twin. Stanford’s’ tongue was quick to pin Stanley’s down, his hands quick to tug at Stanley’s jean zipper, nearly ripping the piece off in his haste, he needed to feel Stanley, needed the distraction more than anything. Bucking his hips forward Stanley cried silently into his twins’ mouth, eyes closing tightly; sliding his hands down Stanford’s chest he did the same as Stanford, tugging and searching for his twins’ cock, crying out when his tongue was softly bitten.

“Stan-Stanley, are you sure? We don’t have any-”

“I need it Stanfy! I need you!” Stanley’s body shook with his sobs, his face pressed into the crook of Stanford’s neck; mewling softly Stanley listened to the sounds of Stanford licking and suckling on his fingers, his twins’ free hand stroking down his back comfortably before helping in pulling down Stanley’s pants and under wear. The spit wettened fingers slid between his cheeks, Stanford’s voice softly asking again if Stanley was certain, only brushing against Stanley’s puckered rim when he sobbed ‘yes’. “I’ll be gentle.” Stanford murmured, wiggling his middle finger in between the tightened rim, hushing his twin softly; however the finger didn’t retract, Stanford pushed his finger in until it was fully sheathed, pumping it in and out, hooking it in hopes of stretching Stanley until he could get second finger inside. Scissoring his fingers he stroked Stanley’s hair, licking the blood off of Stanley’s chin, not realizing that his nose had begun to bleed once again.

“Please…don’t let him get me…” Stanley cried, taking hold of his twins’ half erected cock once Stanford’s fingers were out of his ass, aligning the tip of his cock with his partially stretched opening. “Don’t let him take me away from you…”

“He won’t take you away, I promise.” Stanford groaned, the liquid heat of Stanley’s inner walls wrapping around his cock, slowly sucking him in until he was fully sheathed, his breath coming out in soft pants. “Y-you okay?”

Stanley could only nod weakly, his toes curling in both pain and pleasure, bucking his hips Stanley gripped Stanford’s shoulders, slowly raising himself up before sliding back down his cock, a sniffle being heard. Warm six fingered hands stroked through Stanley’s hair, lips pressing against lips as Stanley slowly, weakly rode Stanford’s cock, the need to go slow over powering the need for distraction; bucking his hips Stanley weakly fisted his cock, murmuring feverishly against Stanford’s lips, begging the other to stay. Faster and more sporadically Stanley thrusted and rode his twins’ cock, tears pouring down his cheeks , his mouth falling open in silent sobs; thrusting faster Stanley felt the familiar warmth running through him, his breath hitching when Stanford’s hand began to fondle his sensitive sack, a deep kiss throwing him over the edge, the hot warmth of Stanford’s cum filling him to the brim; snapping his hips back Stanley felt his own orgasm washing over him, his seed splattering against Stanford’s hand and partially exposed belly, his heart beat racing. Reaching up to stroke Stanford’s cheeks Stanley allowed the tears to flow, his arms weakly wrapping around his chest, his face burying into Stanford’s neck. 

“I- I’m so sorry!” Stanley sobbed, eyes closing, “you got hurt because I couldn’t protect you! Please, don’t leave, please don’t ever leave!”

Holding him back just as tightly Stanford shushed him, offering reassurance, however unable to quell Stanley’s fear he was only able to keep hold, watching until eventually Stanley cried himself, and not long after Stanford’s eyes grew heavy, unable to remain awake.

“Never…gonna…leave…”

 

Having awoken early that morning Stanford gently pulled out of his twin, cum dribbling out of Stanley’s stretched opening as he did so, a whimper of pain escaping him; with coaxing and gentle words Stanford brought his twin to the bathroom of the motel, showering them both off before helping to dry his twin and clothe him. The once playful spark in Stanley’s eyes were gone, a hollow, almost dead like gaze taking its place, however as Stanford brought his lips to Stanley’s he saw the glimmer return, if only for a moment, and without a doubt he knew they would be okay.

Gathering up the duffle bag and finishing off the sandwiches Stanford began to map out just where Ma could have gone, gasping in understanding when Stanley recalled that Ma had always spoken of going to her sisters’ in Florida. 

“We have a long walk ahead of us.” Stanford murmured, hiding the gun under the clothing in the bag, tucking the jar of peanut butter and sack of bread back in; glancing to Stanley he smiled softly holding out his hand for him to take. “You ready?”

Unable to speak Stanley nodded, taking Stanford’s hand, shivering softly he whispered a final good bye to New Jersey, a final good bye to their old life, and a final good bye to Filbrick’s corpse that would surely be found rotting in its chair.


End file.
